


Thursday's Child

by Ailette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen, Imported, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash, kid!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four-year-old Dean Winchester runs away from home. On his way, a stranger offers to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday's Child

As the eighth car rushed by him without even slowing down, Dean cursed. He cursed with all the bad words his mom had forbidden him to say, even though he heard dad say them a lot. Especially when he thought Dean or his wife weren’t around and something wasn’t working.

This was all just so unfair.  
  
If it wasn’t for his stupid baby brother, he wouldn’t be here in the middle of nowhere; maybe a mile away from that gas station, where the other guy had kicked him from the loading area of his car when he’d spotted Dean in the rear-view mirror. Why didn’t anyone stop? Just because he was a little young for hitchhiking? It wasn’t his fault his parents had Sam so soon! Stupid Sam. Stupid mom and dad.   
  
Dispirited, Dean let himself fall into the grass next to the road, staring down at his hands angrily. If only Sam had never been born! He would still be home, with mom and dad, maybe showing them his latest baseball cards. He didn’t want to be here. He just wanted his mom and dad back.   
  
“You are lost,” someone said calmly above him. Dean snapped his head up to find a man standing directly in front of him, hands deep in the pockets of a light brown trench-coat and blue eyes half hidden by too long strands of dark hair.   
  
“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s, like, 100 degree here or something.” Dean narrowed his eyes. “Are you one of those crazy dudes I’m not allowed to talk to?”   
  
The man frowned very slightly before shaking his head no. “I’m Castiel. I’m here because you got lost on your journey.”   
  
“That’s a weird name,” Dean observed, curiosity sparking in his words.   
  
Castiel considered his hunched form for another few seconds before he bent down, now a little closer to Dean’s eyelevel. “You’re not supposed to be here, Dean. You should go home.”   
  
Dean’s mouth fell open. “How do you know my name?”   
  
The only answer he got was a tilt of the head. Huffing, Dean looked to the side. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go back home.”   
  
“Why?” Castiel was taken aback when the child glared at him. He wasn’t used to guiding children. But this one… it was his to take care of. The path of destiny had been laid out before it long before its birth, and it needed guidance. It was a Thursday’s child, even though it wasn’t born on his day. Castiel could sense it.   
  
“Be-Because my parents are stupid and only like my little brother. They don’t… They don’t like me anymore. So I’m not going back.” His bottom lip quivered slightly as he spoke.   
  
Castiel sighed. “They still love you, Dean. They always have and always will, more so than you can imagine in your current position.”   
  
“What do you mean, ‘current position’? I’m nearly five!” And he held up the according number of fingers to underline his point, nearly brushing the stranger’s nose as he did so.   
  
“That’s not what I meant.”   
  
“Oh.” Dean deflated, going back to staring at the grass. He plucked a few blades out only to watch them flutter out of his hand and back to the ground. “How do you know they still… you know.”   
  
“The same way I know your name.” There was no emotion in his voice. He was just talking, pronouncing each word carefully as if he’d never had to use it before; as if speech was beneath him. It angered Dean a little. “Now, you need to go back.”   
  
The plucking stopped as Dean looked up again, big green eyes obscured by dampness, making them shine unnaturally. “I can’t.” He blinked against the upcoming tears with little success. “Mom and dad will be so angry! They won’t want me back.” He snivelled, brushing his sleeve harshly across his face and only succeeding in smearing a patch of dirt over his cheek. “And I don’t know the way back!” He was outright crying by then.   
  
Before Castiel fully realized what he was doing, he’d reached out to the child – _Dean_ , it had a name – but his hand only hovered a few inches short of the trembling form, not close enough to touch. He wasn’t meant to give comfort; only guidance to those on their journey. Human emotions were beyond him.   
  
But the decision was taken from his hands as Dean lunged forward, throwing his little arms around Castiel’s neck in a desperate need for warmth. The angel had to reach back a hand to steady himself, taken by surprise at the force of the child’s hug. For a few heartbeats, he just sat there on his haunches, the asphalt biting into the palm of his hand as Dean sobbed into his shoulder, leaving wet streaks on the coat and Castiel’s throat. Only then he lowered himself onto his knees, cautious not to hurt the child, and let his own arms fold around the crying boy.   
  
He whispered words into the boy’s ears as he slowly rocked him in his arms; words no human being could understand for they were from the language of heaven, soothing melodies when uttered in a human voice. He could feel Dean’s focus shifting when he listened. After a little while, Dean’s tears stopped, though he snuggled even closer to the stranger. He felt safe in those warm arms, felt like he was wrapped up in more than just them.   
  
When Castiel leaned back from him and laid a hand on his shoulders, Dean shuddered. It was a weird feeling; the touch light and yet heavy, like it belonged there.   
  
He could feel it when Castiel was about to stand again, his stance already more distant and detached. If there was one thing Dean Winchester didn’t like, it was when people didn’t pay attention to him. Ruthlessly, he grabbed Castiel’s dark blue tie and tugged – hard.   
  
Castiel stopped in his motions and stared at Dean. Something flitted through impossible deep blue eyes and Dean found himself captured by them. They looked so old, but this man couldn’t be older than his dad. And yet… They weren’t like any eyes he’d ever seen. Dark in a way that could only come from countless layers of blue, the rich color concealing a light shining behind them. Beautiful.   
  
“You have pretty eyes,” Dean informed the older man, unable to tear his gaze away.   
  
Castiel tilted his head at that, gathering the boy closely like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you,” he said then, earnestly. Keeping his eyes on the child, he nodded to the left. “I brought you back home.”   
  
And finally, Dean looked around them. It was true; they were no longer on the verge of a deserted road but rather sitting in the middle of the street to his house. When he turned his head a little more to the left, he could even see it.   
  
Pure joy pulsing through him, he turned back to his savior still held in place by small hands on his tie. He was watching Dean intently, and the corner of his lips twitched just the slightest bit when he saw the beaming smile the boy gave him. He wasn’t expecting Dean to suddenly lean forward and press a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek.   
  
For the first time, something like surprise crossed his features and Dean hastily let go of the cloth in his dirty hands, taking a step back as he bit his lip and blushed.   
  
“Thanks for bringing me home,” he mumbled mutedly, shooting Castiel a nervous glance from under his lashes. Without giving the angel a chance to respond, he turned around and started running towards his house. His ears were hot and he was breathing too fast when he reached the door and rang the bell anxiously. After only a few hammering heartbeats, the door was yanked open and his father scooped him up in his arms, pressing his son close to his chest.   
  
When Dean got a last glance of Castiel, he was sure the man was smiling, but then his mother arrived and joined in the fierce hug and he lost sight of him.   
  
Castiel watched the scene unfold, unaware that his lips had curved at it. The child was home again. Safely back on his path, but Castiel knew the boy wouldn’t just follow it blindly. He’d have to keep an eye on him; the boy was his responsibility now.

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/24543.html)  
> Beta: The fabulous freakydarling .  
> A/N: Just a little something that really, really wanted me to drop everything else to get written. I'm messing a little with canon, but only if you count "Castiel's always looked like he does now when he appears before someone" as messing. Anyway, enjoy. ;)


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